


A Life That Must Be Sung

by Argent_Vulpine



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Backstory, Bard - Freeform, Character Death, Dungeons & Dragons, Dungeons and Dragons, Genderfluid OC, Half-Elf, Non-Binary OC, Other, bard doing bard things, drow mother, half-sister, human father, which means doing everyone I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argent_Vulpine/pseuds/Argent_Vulpine
Kudos: 1





	A Life That Must Be Sung

Memory was such a fickle thing, sometimes. Jaelryn’s earliest memories were of the dark, and of bright, piercing light, and a figure – their mother? – that was these two somehow combined. But those memories were fuzzy and ephemeral at best, not as solid and sure as the memories of their father, or their stepmother (may her soul be at rest), or their little half-sister, Elarien.

Elarien especially dominated Jaelryn’s memories. Seeing her soon after her birth, helping to clean the fluids from her skin, watching her eyes open for the first time, a bright blue that over time turned into a green so deep and clear that Jaelryn had almost wished they’d been born with the same, instead of the vibrant purple that was their elvish birthright.

Helping their sister learn to read and write, to do her numbers, to cook and to clean and to help with the shopping. They sang for her, and taught her to dance. When Elarien gifted them a harp for their name-day, they took to learning to play it just to make her happy.

While Jaelryn loved their father, they _adored_ their sister. Extra coin they earned from playing and singing at the inn often went toward buying sweets for her, or a new dress, or the pretty ribbons for her hair that she’d longingly sighed after in the market.

To Jaelryn, Elarien was their entire world.

* * *

The world was burning. Fire crackled and roared around them, drowned out by screams of terror and pain. The scent of charred flesh stung their nostrils. Whether it was that or the smoke making their eyes water, they neither knew nor cared.

“Papa!” they cried, coughing as they took in a lungful of smoke. “Papa! Elarien!”

The market was ablaze around them, but Jaelryn didn’t care, instead forcing their way past bodies fleeing the scene, struggling to find their father and sister.

A building crumbled, wood and stone mingling in a heap that crashed down over citizens too slow to move out of the way. Bedevret was under siege, kobolds swarming the city. But that wasn’t Jaelryn’s biggest concern.

A flash of blue in the sky caught their attention, a string of expletives tumbling from their lips as they sought cover. The air crackled, the sharp scent of ozone cut through even that of the burning bodies. The lightning-charged breath cut through the crowd, running off down a street congested with people trying to flee the area.

Jaelryn would have continued their search, but for the surge of bodies sweeping them away.

It wasn’t until three days later, after the dragon and kobolds had been dealt with, that they finally found the bodies of their family, trapped beneath rubble.

They wept openly, without caring who might see them. They wept, and they cradled Elarien’s body; she’d not been harmed by the rubble, but trapped and without air, she’d simply… ceased. Jaelryn could almost think her asleep, if not for the chill of her skin and the pallor of her features, made all the clearer by the dark tresses that spilled around her face.

It took a further two days for them to see their family buried properly, nestled in a little plot of the graveyard and sharing a single headstone, as close to Jaelryn’s stepmother as they could manage.

Life went on. They _had_ to go on, to save the memory of their family.

* * *

They were lucky, in some ways. Their home hadn’t been destroyed, nor their belongings ransacked. All they’d lost – and it was a terrible loss – was their family. But Jaelryn was old enough to take care of things themself now that they were on their own.

Where before they’d picked up the odd coin by singing or dancing or sometimes playing harp in the local inns, now it was their entire job. When a statue was erected following the dragon’s attack, that was where Jaelryn chose as their main stage.

It was good placement; the little collection bag they used always had coppers in it, and a few silvers. On occasion, they even got the odd gold piece. They made enough to keep food on the table, wood on the hearth, and have the odd night out with their few friends who’d remained in the city.

Those nights, in the year following the Dragon’s Ravage, Jaelryn and their friends often found themselves toasting to the memory of the forgotten. More often than not, Jaelryn’s toasts were to Elarien. When they returned home in the evening, they would fill the silence with their harp, plucking out melodies that hearkened back to happier times.

* * *

Time passed. People moved on in many ways. Those who lost spouses began new relationships, found new partners, or simply tumbled into the beds of others - Jaelryn included. Parents who lost children mourned and then gave birth to new ones. Orphans found homes with other family, or went to the orphanage, or apprenticed. Some became street children, thieving to survive. Plenty of people moved out, unwilling to remain in a city with so many bad memories, while other people moved in to replace them.

It was all something of a blur to Jaelryn. They'd lost all their family by this point: their mother who'd left them with their father, their stepmother to the dangers of childbirth, and their father (and beloved sister) to the kobolds' ruin of their city. They'd lost friends to the ravage - both to the finality of death and to the parting of ways in the aftermath.

But they'd gained new friends, though not new family. Family was much more difficult to come by.

They spent their time as evenly as they could at the pubs, the plaza, and – of course – flirting with as many pretty faces as they could. They took men and women to bed in equal measures, and though it occasionally ended poorly when a spouse or betrothed was suddenly revealed, it didn’t stop them from pursuing the looks thrown their way. (Sometimes they even got both spouses in bed, and those were memories that Jaelryn looked back on with a special fondness.)

* * *

Jaelryn was in the square, partnered up with other musicians today. The others plucked or strummed or piped while they danced, their movements energetic, upbeat. Their long coat twirled and fluttered around them, catching the eyes of passersby who would stop to watch for a time, their moods lifting. Often as not, they’d leave a few coppers instead of just one or two; more than usual left silver coin behind as well, smiles on their faces.

“I always feel so much better when I pass through the square,” one person remarked.

“It’s like magic. All my stress just goes away,” said another.

“I feel like I can take on the world.”

“I was so tired before, but now I’m so much more energetic.”

The thread of commentary was the same. Dozens of people passing by, hundreds of words, a single sentiment: something in the square made them feel _better_.

Jaelryn thought on this even as they danced, puzzling it over in their mind.

At the end of the day, the collection box was sorted, each person taking their agreed-upon share.

“Good evening Jay!” “See you tomorrow, Ren!” “Good dancing, friend!” chorused the others, making the half-elf grin broadly.

"You know good and well I’ll see you at the pub tonight!” they said, laughingly dodging the others as they pretending to swing at their friend. Jaelryn sidled over to the lovely woman who’d been hovering, her skirts fluttering around her as she nervously waited for them to arrive.

Jaelryn was all charm with her, soft words and silken caresses, until the pair were tucked into a shadowed alley exchanging heated kisses and passionate touches. Skirts were lifted, a blouse partly torn, and the woman's voice became _very_ well-known to those in the area, despite her efforts to muffle herself.

When the half-elf sauntered into the pub later that evening, hair a little mussed and clothing a bit awry, they endured the raucous jokes with a satisfied grin.

* * *

It hadn’t taken them long to figure out that _they_ were the cause of the lifted spirits in the square… or why. With elven heritage, magic had seemed likely, and after a few days of performing alone and in various groups, it was easy to see. A final test – not performing at all for a day – only confirmed Jaelryn’s suspicions.

They took to spending their days off from performing by searching for information on bardic magic, which led them down the path of colleges, so much information swimming in their head that it made them a little dizzy to even think of, sometimes. But they learned, and they got better, and the more they performed, the better they got. They began using their skills to help them in little ways. They earned a little more coin, or got information on endeavors that could prove fruitful, or got themselves out of trouble with the odd partner of a dalliance.

Sometimes they were even asked to go out on little… excursions. Minor adventures that paid well in coin for someone who was able to keep spirits up. They even learned how to do a little healing, going on those outings, a skill that proved useful in many ways.

The people asking often didn’t even know that their little half-elf friend was the same who danced in the plaza, and Jaelryn was content to keep it that way. As they did when people called them "miss" or "sir", they were content to let people make their own assumptions. The end result was usually the same.

It wasn't until they met and befriended Awlryn that life seemed as if it was beginning to change, possibly for the better... and certainly for the more exciting. They talked adventures, reflected on the dragon's attack - now several years in the past - and how it had changed their lives, and slowly, slowly began to consider a life well and truly outside the city.

_I'll see it all for you, Elarien._


End file.
